The inside of my knee (the part that hit and demolished the cooler on the way BACK into the boat) has been hurting so much lately. I started feeling a little anxious about it and after my trip to Vegas I decided it would be smartest to just call up the old Dr. Fabulous and see what he had to say.
I already had an appointment scheduled for next week but they moved it to today, so I got my trusty notebook with all my adorable little overdramatic questions written in it and wobbled on in.
He walked into my exam room within moments of me sitting down and said, “So, how’s it feel?”
“My knee hurts,” I replied, knowing he was a man who skips pleasantries which I LOVE!
“Because I was in a boating accident and broke my femur.”
He didn’t bat an eye.
He manipulated my knee for a few minutes (which hurt like a mother) and without looking up said, “Get her x-rayed. Let’s see.”
The X-ray Machine of the Future (I’ll call it) is a flat table in a dark room with a big camera attached to a computer screen. I don’t know how this thing does it, but by the time I was back in my exam room, Dr. Fabulous already had my scans. I looked at them before he returned to my room to explain them. This, if you know me, was a very bad choice. For as I examined my own x-rays with a keen eye and zero experience, I ascertained that I had begun to grow a new bone in the wrong direction and wrong place. Crap, I thought. The bone broth I’ve been drinking is working TOO well and now I’m growing extra leg bones…
Lucky for me, Dr. Fabulous wasn’t too far behind me.
“Looks fine,” he said.
“Fine? What about this big chunk in the middle of nowhere?” (Because I’m a doctor, too.)
“That’s a butterfly fragment.”
“Oh, ok. Great,” I responded. “Sooo….what is that?”
“It’s the way the bone heals. It’ll heal outward and wrap around the break until it looks like a little apple around your bone. It’s fine. It’s doing what it should.”
“Ok,” I said as he grabbed my knee and started pushing on it. “Ow, ow, ow.”
He pushed all around my knee, asking, “Which hurts more, this 1 or this 2.”
“It all hurts the same,” I responded each time.
He sat back and stared at my knee for a long enough time that I started feeling the need to start making casual conversation. “Can you believe Team USA has had the shortest breaks between games in all of the World Cup? Bullshit, right?! They need their rest!”
Finally, after 45 minutes (or somewhere around there) of silence while he stared at my knee, he said, “I don’t think there’s anything we can do.”
“Allllriiiight…” I squinted at him.
“It’s just going to have to heal. We can take the screw in your knee out because I can feel both ends of it, but I don’t think it will help with this part of your knee. That will just take as long as the bone takes to heal.”
“Should I wear an ace bandage or something?”
“If it’ll make you feel better,” he smirked, essentially saying if it warmed the cockles of my heart to wrap it then I should do it, but I should bedazzle the ace bandage first.
All in all, things are headed in the right direction. Another set of x-rays in a month and hopefully we keep moving right along in this direction. Thank you for your prayers, your messages of strength and encouragement. Thank you to the people I’ve known for ages for reaching out, thank you to the people I just met for reaching out, and thank you to the people I don’t even know for sending me notes and virtual high-fives that all start with, “You don’t know me but…” I’m going to begin working out (gently) next week but this time I’m not doing it for me; I’m doing it to show all of you who have held me up (both literally and emotionally) that your time and energy have been worth it.